A very charming picture it seemed to her, and her heart swelled with increasing joy and gratitude at the thought that she would now have a place in that happy family--the place of one who possessed an equal right there with the others, and joyfully acknowledged by them, for Mr. Heywood had already embraced and called her “daughter” in such tender, fatherly fashion that she could not doubt her welcome from him. CHAPTER XLI. AFTER THE RAIN, SUNLIGHT; AFTER THE STORM, A CALM. “Oh, love! how are thy precious, sweetest moments Thus ever cross’d, thus vex’d with disappointments! Now pride, now fickleness, fantastic quarrels, And sullen coldness, give us pain by turns; Malicious meddling chance is ever busy To bring us fears, disquiet and delays.” Espy, having seen the door of Madame Le Conte’s boudoir close upon Mr. and Mrs. Heywood, stole softly down the stairs, thinking to join his Floy in the parlor. But as he neared the half-open door he caught a glimpse of Ellis and his sisters, and heard the voice of the latter, who was at that moment making his little introductory speech. Espy turned away and quietly left the house, unable to reason down a jealous feeling, which he was only dimly conscious was such, that he was no longer necessary to Floy’s happiness. “I will not go back again to-night,” he said to himself. “She will not miss me.” He had fully sympathized in her joy over the discovery of her long-sought parent, and he was very glad for her even now; but physically weary, and suffering from the exhaustion consequent upon the reaction from great excitement, he began to be oppressed with gloomy thoughts and forebodings. “These people are rich,” he soliloquized. “They will despise me for my poverty, will want Floy to give me up for some wealthier suitor; and if they fail in that, will make the poor darling wretched by their opposition. Yes, that’s just how it will be; it’s always the way; the more people have the more they want.” And at that moment he almost hated the gentle, sweet-faced woman and noble-looking man whom an hour ago he had most heartily admired. Arrived at his hotel, he was hurrying to his room, intending to shut himself up there to the undisturbed indulgence of his dismal prognostications, when his steps were arrested by a waiter, who handed him a card, saying: “The gentleman’s in his room, sir--No. 58, second floor--and wishes you to call on him there, sir. Told me to deliver card and message right away when you came in.” “Very well,” Espy answered shortly, and obeyed the summons at once. The card was his father’s. Mr. Alden was in excellent spirits, and greeted his son with effusion. He was glad to see him looking so well; hoped his affairs were prospering as regarded both the paintings and his relations to Floy. Then, hardly waiting for a reply, he went on: